you shout and cried to be heard
you curved like a ball in the corner to be noticed
everything awfully possible, maybe
but they hide in your head
the probabilities, the shades
no, darkness
they never rise, only linger
they never see light,
how familiar
you are told to remain your poise
like a peacock
composed, at least
what are we trying to achieve
what do we intend to become
what are we trying to achieve
what do we intend to become
because we are supposed to
according to the Gods, the norm, or the authorities
but you, dear one
you came to me like a shooting star
where I caught you falling
that moment I had my head tilt up
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